


water vapor

by HeavenlyDusk



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Eventual Romance, Friendship, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Time Travel, kyoya and mukuro are kind of friends, they also love their other friends but they're weird about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-08-29 03:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16735929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavenlyDusk/pseuds/HeavenlyDusk
Summary: Mukuro and Kyoya weren't heroes. Saving the world, saving innocents--that was Tsuna's thing, but Tsuna was dead, gone and buried, and all that was left were his two most volatile Guardians. They weren't heroes, but going back in time to save their Family? That was something they could do.--Note: Chapters 1 & 2 have been heavily rewritten





	1. Kyoya I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: description of a panic attack and lots of descriptions of blood**
> 
> Enjoy!

Ten years ago, the sad smile Byakuran gave them would have been out of place. “Save everyone,” he said. _Save him,_ his eyes said.

Kyoya wasn’t the savior type, but he nodded anyway.

“Ready?” Irie asked. It was a rhetorical question—he didn’t have a choice. Kyoya glanced at him. Then he glanced to Mukuro. Mukuro held his stare for three seconds before looking away.

“Do it already,” Kyoya said. He closed his eyes.

* * *

When he opened them, it was to a bright white ceiling. The sun streamed through the open curtains. His head was pounding, as was his heart. He felt, for the first time in years, a soft blanket over his body and a mattress underneath. For someone who lived in what equated to a bomb shelter for the past three years, it was jarring.

“Good morning, Kyoya-sama.”

Kyoya jumped and rolled off the bed in shock. The blankets tangled around his body, restricting him from falling into the ready fighting stance he had been aiming for. He snarled as he pulled and tugged. This was why blankets were scarce in the hideout.

A gentle giggle made him freeze. He peered slowly over the top of the bed and saw a woman. She wore her hair in a bun and a classic maid dress that, after a cursory scan, seemed to be modified to not be a hindrance in battle. Her smile wasn’t hostile. There was no hidden intent that he could sense. Her hands were loose, clasped in front of her but unassuming.

It took him a moment to recognize the uniform as one his parents gave their maids.

(It had been years since he saw the maids and butlers and other servants.

They disappeared after his parents died.

They were probably dead)

“You must have had some dream,” the woman continued. “Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. Asuka-sama and Kazuki-sama are both home for the day and will be joining you.”

Kyoya didn’t recognize her. He must have known her when he was a child because he knew all of the servants’ names back then. He didn’t let his uncertainty show as he nodded and responded, “Yes. I’ll be down soon.” The woman nodded and left without another word.

Now calm, Kyoya extracted himself from the blanket and left it messily discarded on top of his bed in favor of standing in front of the full-length mirror across the room.

He was _tiny_. He couldn’t remember a time when he had been this small. His cheeks were chubby, his fingers short instead of long and slender. They were less calloused now. Soft. He didn’t have the scars of living in a battle zone, or even the scars of when he was nothing but a middle school disciplinary committee chairman. He hardly recognized himself, and he had to step away from the mirror before…

He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to look at himself any longer.

Then, he realized, _Oh. It worked_. Spanner and Irie and Byakuran had actually sent him twenty years into the past. He would be about eight now, maybe. Time started to blur together a while in the past—and far into the future—and he hadn’t looked at a calendar in a long time, but he should be around eight. That gave him nine years to plan.

Outside the window, he could see Namimori. The Hibari Estate was on the outskirts of the town, but he remembered choosing his room specifically so he could see the expanse of the town before him. He was, in equal parts, grateful and frustrated by his younger self’s decision.

The Namimori he remembered had been immortalized as nothing but ruins. It was a _massacre_. Some people had survived, but most littered the streets as cooling corpses. Buildings were turned to rubble—and Kyoya hadn’t been there. He was off, elsewhere, trusting in his Foundation to take care of it while he fought with his other Guardians, and the very next day, he was given pictures of the remains and told to return as soon as possible.

(He did find the group, later. He found them because Lambo drew a symbol with his own blood and hid it as he was dying and Kyoya _destroyed them all_.

It fixed nothing)

Kyoya steeled his resolve. A few citizens were walking the streets already, carefree and smiling, and he had forgotten what “carefree” looked like in this town. He wouldn’t let himself forget again. He couldn’t let that happen.

But first—breakfast.

Kyoya changed into something simple and headed downstairs. He walked slowly, taking in the clean halls. The estate had been destroyed, too, reduced to grime and destruction and empty rooms, if they could have been called that. He hadn’t returned since Namimori’s end. He wanted to look, just for a little while.

Small talk made its way to his ears as he approached the dining room. His parents, voices he almost forgot, and something in his chest _ached_. He stopped before he entered, hesitating. He almost didn’t want to see them. He peered around the corner.

His breath caught.

For the first time in-in— _how many years_?—he was looking at his parents again. Hibari Asuka and Kazuki. They were at their prime, hardened by years of being mafia but still soft, without as many wrinkles and stress lines and still able to smile in the safety of their own home, confident in their strength and ability to protect what was theirs. They weren’t the parents he had last seen in a video call, exhausted but keeping their heads high and saying with steel in their voices that they would protect Namimori to their dying breath.

( _And they did_ )

“Fight like carnivores,” Kyoya had said to them.

The next time he saw them, they were pinned to the walls of the estate like some sort of _demonstration_.

Kyoya choked. He registered, vaguely, the way his parents stopped and looked in his direction, but he was already whipping around to press his back against the wall. He trembled as he slid to the floor, looking down but not actually seeing.

What he _saw_ was, instead, the way the blood dripped to the ground, flowing freely from their still open wounds and creating a puddle under their feet. How their arms were both pinned up like a bastardized imitation of Jesus on the cross. Their eyes were left open, as though to make it perfectly clear that there was no life in them anymore.

His breath was coming in gasps. Something roared in his ears—wind, maybe, but wasn’t he inside? He grasped at his chest with shaking hands but couldn’t get a grip. Couldn’t even gulp down air though he knew he was supposed to. Something wet dripped down his cheeks, and yet all he remembered was how the sun shone overhead when it should have been raining that day.

A voice filtered in through his muddled hearing. His father. “Kyoya,” he said, gentle and desperate. “Kyoya, you have to breathe. I’m right in front of you. Can you look up? Can you look at my chest and follow my breathing?” Kyoya tried to take in another breath as he struggled to lift his head. He didn’t dare look up further than his father’s chest. “Good, now breathe with me. In.” He sucked in a breath at the same time his father’s chest rose. “Out.” He exhaled. “Good. Again.” He did it again. “Again.” And again. And again, until the roaring in his ears died down, and the world became clearer, and he was so focused on his father’s breathing that he didn’t get lost in wet red memories again.

Kyoya blinked away the last of his tears and scrubbed at them furiously, scowling. He had collapsed in the middle of the hallway. There was little doubt that at least one servant had seen him.

“Kyoya.” Kyoya froze at his mother’s voice. He slowly tilted his head upward until he saw his parents. His father was kneeling in front of him, while his mother stood behind him. They both wore identical concerned expressions.

Kyoya cleared his throat. “Mother. Father.”

“Are you back with us?” his mother asked cautiously.

“Yes.”

“Can I hug you?” asked his father.

The answer took an extra second to come. “…No.”

“Okay. Kyoya, what happened?”

“Nothing,” he lied. It was true, in a way. Nothing happened. Nothing _will_ happen, if he had anything to say about it.

“Kyoya,” his mother said sharply, setting a stern glare on him.

“Asuka, please.” His father waved a hand to get her to settle down and looked at Kyoya gently. “Kyoya…”

“It was really nothing. I’m fine,” Kyoya said.

His parents looked at him for a moment longer, searching for something he wasn’t going to give them. His father sighed. “We won’t push you.” His mother looked like she was about to protest, but Kazuki shook his head at her. “Really, we won’t push you. But I know a panic attack when I see one, Kyoya. I hope you can tell us what triggered it soon.”

“Right.” That wouldn’t happen, but he nodded to appease them anyway.

“How about breakfast then, Kyoya?” said his mother. “Yours will be getting cold by now.”

“Oh.” Kyoya stood, dusting off his pants. He had forgotten about breakfast. His parents laughed and ushered him into the kitchen.

The food wasn’t exactly warm when he started eating, but it wasn’t cold. He would have eaten it regardless. It had been a long time since he had food so on-hand. None of them could afford to be picky—a far cry from the majority of Kyoya’s life before everything went to shit. It was hard to believe that this him—this child of eight years old—used to throw tantrums if his food wasn’t prepared at exactly the right temperature.

“The food isn’t cold, is it, Kyoya?” his father asked, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Kyoya looked up at him, mouth stuffed with food he hadn’t tasted in _years_. He shook his head and returned to scarfing everything down. This body wouldn’t throw up at eating too quickly because this body didn’t have to adjust to moderating. How nice.

“Father,” Kyoya said once his plate had been wiped clean, “I need Uncle’s number.” His parents froze and stared at him. He belatedly realized that at this time, he had already denounced his uncle as a family member and refused to acknowledge him as such. Oh well.

“You mean… your uncle Fon?” his father said hesitantly.

“Yes,” Kyoya confirmed, deciding it easier to barrel on through. “Uncle. I need his number.”

“What for?” asked his mother.

“Something. Stuff. I need a favor and he’s the best person to turn to. His number?”

“I—of course. Hiro-san, would you give me a piece of notepad paper and a pen?” his father asked the nearby butler. Hiro-san nodded and disappeared for a few seconds, returning with the requested items. Kazuki wrote down the string of numbers before sliding it towards Kyoya.

“Thank you,” Kyoya said. He hopped off his seat without another word to head to his room.

His parents should have given him a phone by now, but he was too busy making sense of his situation to notice whether or not he had one. The phone was supposed to be used for emergencies, though he seldom used it growing up and eventually, he discarded it for a Vongola phone when he officially became Tsuna’s Cloud Guardian. If he was right, the phone should be on his bedside table.

Sure enough, there it sat. It was old and a bit clunky in his eyes. Kyoya frowned. This was what used to be considered high tech. It was hard to imagine with the work Irie and Spanner did years into the future.

It only took two rings for Fon to answer with a startled, “Kyoya?”

Kyoya narrowed his eyes. He picked up on the caller far too quickly. He couldn’t bring himself to be too shocked over it. “Carnivore. I need a favor.”

“A favor? From me? I—of course, Kyoya. Whatever you need.”

“Do you know the Estraneo Famiglia?” he said, getting straight to the point. “They’re currently conducting highly dangerous human experimentation on their own children. I need you to rescue three in particular—Rokudo Mukuro, Joshima Ken, and Kakimoto Chikusa.” Belatedly, he added, “And, I suppose, bring down the Estraneo as well and rescue the others.” He didn’t care much for the other children, but he wasn’t so cruel as to leave them to their own devices, and he doubted Fon—that bleeding heart—would be able to leave them alone either.

“What? How do you know that?” Fon asked, bewildered.

“That’s none of your concern.” He didn’t have an answer anyway. “The important thing is that you get those three out of there. Rokudo Mukuro, Joshima Ken, and Kakimoto Chikusa. Understood?”

“Kyoya, I can’t storm a family for no reason.”

“I just _gave_ you a reason.”

“Not according to the Vindice. You probably haven’t started reading up on all of their laws, but if the Estraneo are keeping their experiments within their own Family, there’s hardly anything I can do about it. If they were to be experimenting on children from other Families’ children, I could do something granted I had sufficient proof, but I don’t. I’m sorry, Kyoya, but I can’t do anything.”

Kyoya snarled into the receiver, anger bubbling within him. “ _Useless_.” Without another word, he hung up and threw the phone to the ground. It cracked under his assault. It started ringing again, but he ignored it and stomped towards the direction of the training room. He needed to beat something up.

Technically, he didn’t need Fon’s help to get Mukuro and the other two out. Mukuro had the Right of Blood to slaughter the Estraneo as he saw fit according to the sins done against him. There was nothing the Vindice could do about that. It was simply more work than Kyoya thought was needed, and Mukuro would end up with that same stain on him.

“Kyoya?” his mother said as she witnessed him march past, a stormy look on his face. He didn’t answer—which he would surely regret later—and slammed into the training room. The grunts sparring inside froze.

Now was as good a time as any to evaluate this body’s levels.

* * *

As it turned out, Kyoya’s Cloud Flames had retained their power from when he was twenty-eight. He hardly had to think to use them to their full capacity. His body needed some work, to his disappointment though he wasn’t surprised. His stamina and endurance was unfortunately low and he was too used to working with longer range and a different body weight. He would have to refamiliarize himself with this time if he wanted to get back to his past strength.

“I’m going to patrol,” he declared immediately after he finished lunch.

“Didn’t you just finish training?” his father said. “You need to rest.”

“I need to get stronger. Who will look after Namimori if I’m not out there?” Selfishly, he wanted to see if Tsuna was out there. He wanted to see Namimori too, of course. He wanted to remember what it looked like before it was dyed in red, but a part of him recognized that Tsuna was the most important priority.

“Let him go, Kazuki,” said his mother, giving Kazuki a pointed look. “You know how he is.”

His father let out a long sigh. “Fine. Call Tetsuya-kun to come with you, and remember to bring your phone. Come home any time if you feel you’re starting to get tired.”

Kyoya certainly wouldn’t be doing that. “Of course, Father.”

Tetsu wasn’t technically a cousin, but his family was a branch of the Hibari Family’s, so they were close. It only took him a few minutes to arrive at the door, already having learned his future position as Hibari’s right hand.

Kyoya stopped in his tracks before he entered Tetsu’s field of view. He needed to stop. Tetsu was so _small_ , so different from the man he would grow into. He stood straight and prepared, but his cheeks were still a little chubby and he didn’t hold himself with quite the same certainty and strength that his future self would. He was still a child, not the man who died refusing to give up information about his Family even as he was drained of his Flames and later killed.

“Kyoya-sama? Your hand…” a maid gasped. Kyoya blinked as he registered a stinging pain in his palms. He looked down. He had managed to cut through his skin with his fingernails.

“Oh,” he said. The maid quickly went to grab a bandage. Kyoya thanked her when she was finished and headed towards Tetsu.

“Kyo-san, hello,” Tetsu greeted, visibly trying not to smile. Kyoya felt a flutter of amusement and couldn’t help but quirk his lips in response.

“Tetsu. Come along,” he ordered. He spun, already marching along a path. He didn’t remember the usual patrol pattern he had at this age, but if he was wrong, Tetsu didn’t say anything.

As soon as they were out into the town, Kyoya felt the presence of a few people watching him. He frowned but didn’t slow down his pace. It took a few moments for him to identify them as a few of his parents’ people and he had to keep from rolling his eyes. He hadn’t realized his parents sent grunts out to watch him when he patrolled as a child, though he grudgingly admitted that it made sense. Still, it would be annoying if he let them continue watching them.

It only took a few winding paths to lose them. He smirked. Now that they were gone, he could stop focusing on getting away and start focusing on looking at Namimori, whole and alive.

He underestimated how much it would affect him.

Namimori wasn’t a new town by any definition of the word, but it hadn’t been falling apart. To Kyoya, though, he hardly remembered what it looked like when it wasn’t broken and deserted. He could hardly breathe looking at this old-and-new Namimori. The shops, the houses, the playgrounds, the schools—instead of the buildings and people, what he saw was _splattered blood and piles of bodies and rubble and everything he had grown up to protect, gone and destroyed and he wasn’t even there to do anything about it_.

Kyoya had to stop in his tracks as he reached the outer edges of the center square. This was one of the more crowded areas of the town. There were people running around, doing their shopping, trying to get somewhere, and they were all _alive_. The last time he saw Namimori so full and open was when they left Lambo with Nana, hoping they would be able to stay safe in the small, relatively unknown town that they regarded as sanctuary.

They had gone shopping that day. One last good memory before they had to leave their youngest behind with a mother who wouldn’t provide the care they could, but would provide the safety they couldn’t.

(He remembered—

_Chrome convincing Mukuro to try on a dress._

_Takeshi and Hayato getting kicked out of another store._

_Lambo manipulating Ryohei into getting him more candy than he was allowed._

_Tsuna, laughing among it all._ )

(He remembered—

_bloodied hands_

_empty eyes_

_crying people only barely alive_

_taunts in red on walls that used to belong to places_ )

His hands were shaking, his heart racing, his body temperature rising. Tetsu was saying something, asking what was wrong, trying to figure out what to do, and then—

“Are you okay?”

Kyoya froze. That voice. _That voice_. It was high and childish but he wouldn’t forget that voice no matter how it would change with age. He looked up, almost afraid of what—of _who_ —he would see.

And there stood Tsuna.

Tsuna, in an oversized orange sweater, chubby cheeks and fluffy hair, looking at him with concern that was so familiar and yet so different on the face of a mere child.

Kyoya’s breath caught.

This was a boy who would grow into the one man Kyoya was willing to follow. And at this time, he was tiny. Scrawny. His body language was open, his eyes bright and so unlike the man who forced himself to harden more than he should have had to in order to keep himself and the rest of his Family alive. Kyoya wanted to keep this Tsuna. Absently, he reached out with his Flames, wanting to feel that warmth that he had been deprived of for _so long_.

He hit a block.

Kyoya’s blood ran cold as he came back to himself. Tsuna was already Sealed.

A familiar anger at Sawada Iemitsu and Vongolo Nono bubbled in his chest, but he pushed it down to stew in later. He straightened, looking Tsuna in the eye as he said, “I’m okay. Thank you.”

Tsuna beamed, all uncertainty vanishing. “Good! You looked really not-okay and I worried!”

“I appreciate the concern, small animal.” There was something refreshing about speaking that old nickname. He hadn’t dared speak it in so long. A glance at Tetsu showed that he was visibly off-balance by the new title.

“Small animal?” Tsuna asked.

Kyoya leaned forward to pat his head. He was already taller than him. “Small and fluffy. Small animal.”

“I-I’m not an animal though!” Tsuna’s face burned brightly. “My name is Tsu-kun! Sawada Tsuna!”

“Small animal.” Kyoya nodded firmly, a hint of a smirk making its way to his lips. Tsuna pouted and stomped a foot. This was nostalgic. matter how old Tsuna was, his reactions remained the same. He missed it.

“Tsu-kun! Where have you gone?” Kyoya stiffened at Sawada Nana’s call. He was never close to the woman nor did he ever particularly like her, but he remembered finding her body. He remembered the broken expression on Tsuna’s face when he saw her, too.

“I’m here, Mama! I’ll be right there!” Tsuna called back. He looked to Kyoya and smiled tentatively. “Um, I have to go, but I-I’m glad you’re okay! What’s your name?”

“Hibari Kyoya,” he said.

“It was nice to meet you, Hibari-san! I hope to see you in school!”

Kyoya debated with himself for a split second, then said, “You… can call me Kyoya.” Behind him, Tetsu choked.

Tsuna’s eyes widened. He looked impossibly happy. The last time Kyoya saw him so happy, it was his birthday. By the time his birthday had come around the year after, Basil and Haru were dead. “I-is that okay? Um, then, it was nice to meet you, Kyoya-san! And your friend—”

“Tetsu.”

“Tetsu-san! Have a nice day!” He spun around, beginning to hurry off to his mother, but tripped on his own feet. Kyoya caught him before he could hit the ground.

“Careful, little animal.”

“I’m not an animal!” Tsuna huffed. “A-ah, but thank you for catching me, Kyoya-san. Bye-bye now!” He ran off, thankfully not tripping over himself this time. Nana welcomed him back with a bright smile.

Kyoya watched Tsuna chatter excitedly to her for a few moments before turning on his heel. “We’re going another way,” he said.

“K-Kyo-san?” Tetsu stammered as he followed after him. “What was…?”

“That was nothing.” His voice left no room for further questions. Tetsu wisely kept his mouth shut.

They only patrolled the emptier areas of Namimori that day.

* * *

“Mother,” Kyoya said the moment he and Tetsu arrived back home. His mother was “casually” lounging in the family room. He knew she was only waiting for his return.

“Welcome back Kyoya, Tetsuya-kun,” she greeted.

“Asuka-sama,” Tetsu said politely.

“Mother, I met a boy today,” Kyoya said, sitting near her. Tetsu continued standing until she ushered for him to sit too.

“Oh?” Her voice was light, which meant she was curious.

“He was younger than me I think,” Kyoya continued. “He was Active, but I couldn’t feel his Flames. They were blocked.” Sealed, but he wasn’t supposed to know about Seals yet.

His mother sat up, eyes narrowing dangerously. “I _see_. What was his name?”

“Sawada Tsuna.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Thank you for telling me, Kyoya.” After a moment, she smiled mischievously. “Tell me—did you like this boy?”

Kyoya felt his cheeks warm. “…He was fine,” he muttered.

“Kyoya called him a small animal,” Tetsu said. The traitor.

“ _Tetsu_.”

“How nice,” his mother laughed. “We’ll have to invite him over someday.”

Kyoya would have protested, if he didn’t actually mind. He wanted to see Tsuna. This small version would need protecting, and cultivating for the day that Reborn would arrive, and his Seal would be released earlier too.

There was a lot he could do if Tsuna were more present in his life.

He couldn’t wait.

* * *

That night, Kyoya dreamt.

He didn’t dream of the things he expected to dream about. Blood and death and crying—the usual things. It wasn’t exactly a _dream_ either, because he recognized this place.

Mukuro stood in front of him, smirking. They both looked like the twenty years older selves they used to be. “Hello my dear Skylark,” he purred. “It looks like it worked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never had a panic attack, so I hope I didn't fuck that scene up. I'm really bad at writing often and I don't usually write serious fics, so updates are incredibly spotty.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you stick around!


	2. Mukuro I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS: graphic descriptions of blood and death**
> 
> Enjoy!

Mukuro wasn’t sure if Kyoya disappearing into literal dust was what was supposed to happen, but from the look on Irie’s face, he supposed to must be. He had to say he much preferred the puff of smoke of the Ten Year Bazooka than whatever had just happened.

“Are you sure that didn’t just kill him?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at Irie.

“Are you doubting my Shou-kun?” Byakuran huffed.

“His body is probably gone because he doesn’t exist in this timeline anymore,” Irie said reasonably, as though that made any difference. Mukuro looked at him disdainfully. He had very little faith in their invention, but that didn’t matter anymore. Regardless of what happened, Kyoya already went through the same thing. That, at least, ensured he wouldn’t be alone no matter what happened.

“Good luck,” Byakuran said as Mukuro took his place where Kyoya just was.

“I don’t need it,” he responded.

“Yes you do.”

Mukuro closed his eyes without responding.

* * *

He opened them to crying children trying desperately to stay quiet. It was a sound he had almost forgotten, replaced now by the sound of running and shouting and fighting. On bad days, though, these sounds still haunted his dreams.

“Mukuro?” someone whispered. He tensed and looked to the side.

Ken.

Ken was dead.

And beside him with furrowed eyebrows was Chikusa.

Also dead.

They died together, clutching onto each other’s hands tightly. They were two of the first to go.

Yet, there they were, fifteen years younger than the last time he saw them and more haunted than they would later be, when they considered themselves Vongola and became comfortable in their places in the world.

Mukuro sat up, his body aching. He didn’t Ken. He looked instead at the room he thought he had come to terms with in his memories. His body grew tenser the longer he looked. Tsuna ensured that he went to some kind of therapy, and time and his Family eventually helped him move on, but nothing would have prepared him for coming back. Nothing would have prepared him for returning to the small walls and the broken children he thought he left behind.

He dug his fingers into his arms, the pain grounding him before he could lose himself. He was stronger now. He could kill all of these scientists and leave, years earlier than he had before. He was one of the strongest Guardians to the man who would later be called the most influential man in the world—for a time. This wouldn’t break him. He would sooner break this room.

“Mukuro?” Ken repeated.

“What?” Mukuro said. He looked at him for only a second before he had to look away. He had seen his fair share of dead bodies, and yet he couldn’t forget the way blood dripped from his mouth, how his head was smashed in from the height he and Chikusa fell.

( _The height they **jumped** from_)

“You were, um, asleep—” Ken wrinkled his nose.

“Unconscious,” Chikusa supplied.

“Un-con-scious,” Ken repeated slowly, “since the adults brought you back. How was it this time?”

Mukuro blinked. He already realized how sore his body was, but he only just registered that he felt sluggish too. It must have been a bad experiment he just got out of. “Gross,” he answered. “Tired. I don’t remember what happened.” None of them flinched as a high-pitched scream sounded from somewhere outside. “How long was I out?”

Ken shrugged. “Dunno. It was a long time.”

That was expected. They didn’t have clocks or calendars. There was no need to check the time or date when their days were nothing but experiment after experiment. If Irie and Spanner were right and this was twenty years into the past, then he was probably seven now. He didn’t remember what experiments were conducted on him at seven.

“Your eye,” Chikusa said haltingly. He gestured to his right eye. “It’s weird.”

“Oh yeah! You got something weird on your eye!” Ken said, nodding.

Mukuro raised an eyebrow and looked around for a reflective surface. There were no mirrors, but their shit excuse for beds were metal. He peered into it to look at his reflection.

_六_

A wave of relief washed over him. He didn’t think he had his abilities at this age, but the mind transfer must have transferred everything over. Good. That meant he truly did have the power to kill the Estraneo earlier than planned.

He tried to stand, only to wince and fall back down. Chikusa had a hand out as though to steady him. Whatever the scientists did this time must have really fucked him up. He would recover by the next day, no doubt, but it was frustrating. He wanted _out_ , as soon as possible and before the rest of the children could die and it was only him and Ken and Chikusa left.

A silent snarl made its way out his lips, unbidden. Ken and Chikusa recoiled. He schooled his features back into one of indifference and huffed. “Annoying,” he said. Neither of them responded.

* * *

The time difference between him and Kyoya was seven hours, but Mukuro had all day to sleep and wait for Kyoya to sleep so he could reach into his dreams and grab him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this if his Flames were only at the strength of a normal seven year old. It helped that he and Kyoya were compatible and even better, already Harmonzied.

“Hello my dear Skylark,” he purred, looking over the twenty-eight year old body of his fellow Guardian. “It looks like it worked.”

Kyoya nodded, face passive. “Carnivore. It did work.”

“What have you been up to in the past day?” Mukuro sat, crisscrossing his legs on top of the misty ground. Kyoya only hesitated a moment before doing the same.

“I saw the omnivore.”

Mukuro froze. He didn’t expect to hear that so soon. “Did you?” he said, faux-casual. Kyoya looked at him knowingly.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “He is… smaller than I remember. But still Tsuna. He’s already Sealed, but I spoke to my mother and she will look into it.”

“Good.” Mukuro’s eyes darkened as he thought of the Sawada patriarch who damned his Sky at such a young age. That man gained no favors from him, no matter how Tsuna forgave him.

“I also tried to get Fon to get rid of the Estraneo,” Kyoya continued. Mukuro snapped to attention, but Kyoya was frowning. “According to Vindice law, he can’t do anything though. Useless carnivore.”

“Well, that’s not a surprise, though I am disappointed,” Mukuro sighed. “It’s fine. You have my word that I won’t go murdering any other Families like I did before. I’ll come straight to you, my dear.” He smirked teasingly at Kyoya, earning a whap on the head.

“I’m not your dear anything.”

“So you say.” Mukuro rubbed his head. The smack didn’t hurt. “We’ll need a cover story for when I appear at your door, though. You do realize that, right?” Kyoya’s silence said enough. He rolled his eyes. Typical skylark. “Of course you didn’t realize. Whatever, we can talk now.”

“What have you been doing?” Kyoya asked, the words coming out awkward and abrupt. Mukuro raised an eyebrow, then burst out laughing.

“Oh, Skylark, awkward as always!” he exclaimed in between bouts of laughter. Kyoya glared, fingers curling into fists. Mukuro coughed. They only had a limited amount of time in their dreams and they couldn’t afford to waste it by fighting. “Right, right. I’m back in Estraneo. Luckily, I returned immediately after a bad experiment, so I’ve spent all day waiting and resting.” Kyoya relaxed and nodded. “Now can I talk about our cover story?”

“Just go.”

“Eloquent as always.” Mukuro rolled his eyes. “When I arrive in Namimori, I will say that we met in our dreams like now. I wanted to get out of Estraneo so I tried to find someone I was compatible with. Lo and behold, that’s you. And you became so _enamoured_ with me that you tried to help me,” he cooed the last sentence, making Kyoya reach out to try and strangle him. Mukuro restrained him with dream constructs.

“You’re full of _shit_ ,” he hissed.

“Thank you.” He waited for Kyoya to give up before speaking again. “The story won’t hold up much under interrogation, but since we’re children, I don’t believe your family will think too much on the details.”

“Do what you want,” Kyoya said.

“You’re an amazing companion to talk to, truly.” Mukuro rolled his eyes. He released the restraints on Kyoya and blocked the hit aimed at him a moment later. They skidded backwards. He smirked up at Kyoya. “A spar until we wake up?” Kyoya didn’t answer. Mukuro took it as an affirmative.

When Mukuro woke, refreshed from the battle and with a plan in mind, he grinned.

Three years early, the Estraneo burned.

* * *

Mukuro didn’t answer any of Ken or Chikusa’s questions until after he ensured that the surviving kids had some place to go, or at least had the knowledge of how to survive. He was one of the few—if not the only one—who had the smarts to live after the only life they had ever known had been destroyed, so it took a week to get the children all situated. It was just long enough for the Vindice to find out about the Estraneo and identify him as the murderer, but also long enough that they would have figured out why he did it. The lack of any action against him meant they must have determined it was his Right of Blood.

“Will you answer our questions _now_?” Ken whined an hour after they dropped off the last of the children. They were sitting in their temporary shelter—an abandoned warehouse.

“Yes.” The affirmative had both of his companions staring at him wide-eyed. He sighed. “I had to deal with the others first, but now that we’re alone, I can speak: there’s somewhere we have to go. Japan.”

“Japan?” Ken rolled the unfamiliar word in his mouth. “Where’s that?”

“It’s a country nowhere near here. It’ll take too long to reach if we walk, so…” Mukuro frowned in thought. The easy route would be to create some illusions to pose as parents so they could hop on a plane, but that would probably freak out Ken and Chikusa. There would be too many people at a normal airport and for them having grown up in a lab, it would lead to more destruction and attention than they could afford.

He contacted Kyoya in their dreams again and less than twenty-four hours later, a Hibari was waiting to take them to Namimori on a private plane.

“Is this okay?” Ken hissed as they followed the Hibari.

“Yes. We’re safe.” Impersonating a Hibari was dangerous business, and not many people had the guts. The woman escorting them must have been a cousin or an aunt to Kyoya because she looked remarkably similar to him and his mother. Mukuro didn’t take that at face value though and had made sure to ask questions only a Hibari sent by Kyoya would know before following.

“Where did she come from?” Ken asked dubiously.

“I have contacts,” Mukuro said airily.

“Contacts…” said Chikusa slowly. He gave him an incredulous look, to which Mukuro ignored. Too much information piled on them at once wouldn’t be good for them.

And where was the fun in spilling too soon?

It was just like the Hibari Clan to have a private base in Italy purely for transportation, which was useful. There weren’t a lot of people around and those who were around were as quiet and professional as a Hibari could be. They weren’t stared at as they walked past to the plane. Anyone who looked at them too closely for too long would have made Chikusa and Ken react violently.

“Whoa…” Ken breathed as he stared up at the plane. Chikusa nodded dumbly beside him.

“The flight should take no more than fifteen hours, but barring complication, you will likely arrive in Namimori in twelve hours,” the Hibari woman said as she led them inside. “The only people on here are trusted pilots and staff, who will bring you whatever food and drinks you may ask for. When you arrive, you will be picked up by the Hibari heir. He said you would know him when you saw him?” She glanced at them, blank-faced but clearly unsure that three isolated children from Italy would know Kyoya.

“I will recognize him,” Mukuro said. Or, more likely, he would recognize Kyoya’s Flames.

“Hm. In case you don’t, here is a picture for your reference.” She handed him a small photograph depicting a scowling Kyoya. Mukuro almost cooed. He had only had the privilege of seeing pictures of Kyoya as a child a few times—before Kyoya found them and tried to burn his eyes out.

“Thank you,” Mukuro said. “Ken, Chikusa.” The two of them snapped to attention, following behind him until they found a few seats. “You two can sleep. We should be safe here.”

“Are you sure about this?” Chikusa said, squinting at him.

“Yes. And if I’m wrong, I can deal with the consequences.” He lived through the deaths of his Family and killed the Estraneo twice—there were very few people who could match him.

The absolute confidence in his voice must count for something as Ken and Chikusa nod and settle down. He doubted they would be able to sleep for a while, but they would tire themselves out trying to stay vigilant eventually.

It took a few hours, but as expected, they fell asleep. Mukuro stayed wide awake. Nerves filled his stomach; nerves that he quickly tried to stomp down. Namimori had never been his town. He wasn’t nervous. There was no reason to _be_ nervous. He knew the future and he had already started making plans for it. He was certain that everything could go well, so the nerves were _entirely unnecessary_.

“You didn’t sleep at all, Mukuro,” Ken said as they stepped off the plane after the twelve-hour flight was over. Mukuro glowered at him. The lack of sleep wasn’t anything new, but the bags under his eyes and the exhaustion hanging on his shoulders spoke lots.

Whatever response he could have given broke off as he flipped away from a familiar blurred figure. Kyoya’s tonfa hit the plane behind them. Mukuro was somewhat impressed that it didn’t dent, and then he was blocking another hit. He grinned viciously. Dream spars were well and good, but they hardly gave the same feeling and Mukuro was too busy to sleep during the day so he could meet with him while he slept.

“It’s _so_ lovely to see you in person, Skylark-kun,” Mukuro purred, the Japanese flowing seamlessly from his tongue. He shoved him back and aimed his trident in an overhead arch that Kyoya jumped back from. The ground cracked under its prongs.

Kyoya smirked. “For damaging Namimori grounds, I’ll _bite you to death_.”

“Oh get _over_ yourself, Skylark.” Mukuro rolled his eyes as he moved his head just in time to avoid a braining by tonfa. Kyoya huffed, already shifting to accommodate for the miss and Mukuro spun his trident—

“Kyoya, _hold_!”

Mukuro didn’t recognize Hibari Asuka’s voice well, but it was easy to identify. Kyoya froze and Mukuro took the opportunity to jab the handle of his trident into his gut. He was flung some ways away—not the several feet that Mukuro was expecting, but it was still satisfying watching him skid along the ground. He caught himself quickly, unfortunately, and looked up to snarl and glare. Mukuro blew him a kiss.

Asuka sighed somewhere behind him. Mukuro stiffened. He let the trident disappear as Kyoya stood and retracted his tonfas.

“So, you’re familiar with my son, then,” Asuka said and stepped into view. She was near the spitting image of Kyoya, only with longer hair and clearly a woman, and with all the poise that Kyoya didn’t have.

“Of course,” Mukuro said tensely. Kyoya glanced at him.

“I wasn’t sure, see. Kyoya ordered your pickup without consulting me. I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea who you or your companions are,” Asuka said. She crossed her arms. Ever the thorough woman, she didn’t let her guard down even when facing a malnourished, dirtied, and bruised seven-year-old boy. She was right to be wary.

Mukuro looked to Kyoya, unsurprised by his single-mindedness. Kyoya sniffed. He looked back at Asuka. “My name is Rokudo Mukuro,” he said. “My friends are Joshima Ken and Kakimoto Chikusa. We’ve just killed our Family, the Estraneo, for the inhumane experimentation they’ve been doing on us and other children in the Family. Kyoya was kind enough to help prepare for this.”

Asuka narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me? You killed your whole Family?” She looked ready to drag Kyoya behind her and fight him herself. Kyoya would go mad if she did.

“It was well within my rights to do as I pleased according to mafia law,” Mukuro hummed carelessly. “As it was an internal matter, it was dealt with internally and no other Families were affected. I have no plans to do anything to anyone who doesn’t harm us. And, of course, my dear Kyoya so loves Namimori—I don’t have the heart to do anything to his town.”

“I’m not your dear anything,” Kyoya said with none of the indignity he once had over the pet name. “Mother, this Carnivore isn’t a good person, but I can say that he truly won’t cause any harm to us or our people so long as he isn’t given cause.”

Asuka hummed noncommittally, still distrustful. “We’ll see. Because you asked and you believe them, I will allow their stay, but—” she looked to Mukuro, “you will be kept under close watch. If what you say is true, you have the power to do great harm. Understand that I cannot allow that to happen to my Family.” Kyoya was glaring at his mother, but Mukuro thought she was being very reasonable.

“Understood, Asuka-sama.” He looked past Asuka to Ken and Chikusa, waving them over. He switched to Italian as he said, “Come, Ken, Chikusa. We’ll be staying with these people for the undetermined future.”

“What?” Ken shouted, echoed by Chikusa’s quieter question. “Why?”

“Kyoya here is my Cloud,” he said, grinning. “My _compatible_ Cloud.” Asuka froze and her eyes widened. Ken and Chikusa also froze.

Kyoya rolled his eyes. “Bastard,” he mumbled in Italian. For the others to hear, he said, “Let’s go now. It’s late.” Not paying Asuka’s shock any mind, Mukuro nodded and fell into step beside Kyoya. Ken and Chikusa were quick to follow, likely deciding that Mukuro would explain himself later. Asuka was a bit slower, but her long legs overtook them quickly.

She reached the car first, sliding into the drivers’ seat. The rest of them piled into the back. Once she started driving, she said, “You know about compatibilities, Kyoya?”

“Yes,” Kyoya answered. Mukuro raised an eyebrow.

“Did you not know about Flames before? I thought you’d always been mafia,” he said.

“All I needed was to fight,” Kyoya sniffed. Mukuro delighted in the way his ears turned slightly pink. “Flames didn’t matter.”

“Skylark.”

“Bastard.”

“Language!” Asuka snapped. Mukuro stifled a snicker, then cut off in a choke as Kyoya’s elbow found home in his gut. Ken and Chikusa jumped, but didn’t react as Mukuro did nothing but make a face.

“Um, Mukuro…” Chikusa said hesitantly. “What’s… going on?”

Mukuro stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?”

“Who exactly _are_ these people?”

“Oh.” It was Kyoya’s turn to laugh and be cut off. “I guess I forgot to tell you. Chikusa, Ken, as I said, this is Kyoya, and his mother Asuka, of the Hibari Group. They have lots of power in Asia, but they do stick their toes into a few other continents. We’ll be safe with them.”

“I’m surprised you know about us, Mukuro,” Asuka said in Italian for the benefit of Ken and Chikusa. “If you never left the Estraneo home, I wouldn’t have expected you to hear about us.” What a nice way to say he was confined and imprisoned his whole life.

“Scientists like to talk while they’re working,” Mukuro said carelessly. “Kyoya filled in a few blanks.” Asuka hummed vaguely.

The car ride continued on in silence. For Ken and Chikusa, it might have been uncomfortable, but Mukuro thought it just fine. With Kyoya at his side, he never expected much talking. He was comfortable in the silence with him. The hours without sleep caught up to his child body quickly and he found himself dozing on Kyoya’s shoulder before long. He didn’t get to sleep though, because getting to the Hibari Estate took practically no time at all.

Kyoya was quick to shove him off, but Mukuro smirked anyway. The fact that he hadn’t done so earlier spoke volumes. He hadn’t even been tense. Asuka eyed them oddly through the front mirror, but said nothing as she helped them out of the car.

“Kyoya will show you to your room,” she said. “I’m not sure whether or not you would like individual rooms, but Kyoya said you would prefer one large room for all of you. If you would like to have your own, all you need do is ask.”

“Thank you,” Mukuro said. Kyoya led them into the house, pausing only momentarily to nod to a few of the staff as they passed. Ken and Chikusa plastered themselves to Mukuro’s sides. Their eyes were beginning to turn glazed and overwhelmed. It was likely that they would lock themselves in the room for the foreseeable future, until they were ready to face the rest of what the Hibari estate had in store.

“This is your room,” Kyoya said. “Mine is across the hall. Don’t bother me at night unless it’s important. Ask a maid for help. Mukuro, don’t _harass_ any of my people.” He narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. Mukuro faked an affronted gasp.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean,” he sniffed.

“Right.” Kyoya rolled his eyes. “If you’re tired, go to sleep. It’s late, so get rid of the jetlag now.”

“Yes, I’ll do that. You’re a wonderful help, Skylark.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I am an excellent liar.”

Kyoya turned around and trudged down the stairs, probably heading towards the gym. Mukuro was the first to open the door to their room. As expected, it was large—large enough to hold a queen bed with more than enough floor space to spare, even with a dresser, a full-length mirror, and a desk. There was a door that also looked to lead to a bathroom.

“This is…” Chikusa murmured. Ken was already poking around the room, looking for any hints that this might be a trick. Mukuro didn’t discourage him from that notion. He narrowed his eyes as Ken opened one of the dresser drawers and he saw what _looked_ to be a pineapple print t-shirt.

“Skylark, you…”

“Um, Mukuro, how… did you say you met your Cloud again?” Chikusa asked hesitantly.

“Ah… Did you know that if they’re strong enough, Mists can communicate with their compatible elements in their dreams?” Mukuro said. He hadn’t learned this until years in the future, after Tsuna had accepted his role as Decimo and began to learn about Flames seriously. They were all subject to Flames education in one way or another, except for Hayato as the only one who grew up with the knowledge. Even Mukuro’s knowledge was spotty at best before Reborn forced him to sit down and learn too.

“Oh. I see. So that’s how…” As he got older, Chikusa became a much more analytical mind. He would have been endlessly interrogating Mukuro if he were the same, but he was only a child now—a child who trusted Mukuro wholeheartedly. He accepted the explanation without suspicion.

Though as a child, Mukuro wouldn’t have known how to work a shower, he didn’t care to keep up the pretense. He hadn’t bathed in who-knows-how-long and Ken and Chikusa wouldn’t question him. He now had access to basic utilities so he was going to milk it for what it was worth. As soon as he got out of the shower and changed into the pajamas left for them, he fell back on top of the bed. “I’m going to sleep now,” he announced to the other two. “Don’t wake me until morning.”

“Yes, Mukuro,” Ken said. There was no answer from Chikusa, but he probably nodded. Mukuro closed his eyes.

Kyoya’s house was safe.

He fell asleep before he could think to use the blanket.

* * *

Estraneo. Pain and screaming, scientists prodding at him. Fear, the first time he saw and realized what death meant. Hell. Forcing himself to become numb to the pain. His flesh, cut open and his insides studied.

Then—

Ken and Chikusa’s bodies at the edge of the cliff. Eyes squeezed shut, blood pooling all around them, soaking their clothes. Bashed in heads and hands clutched together, already bruised and broken but refusing to die unless they chose to do it themselves. _And so they did._

Fran. His student. Body found with a twisted neck and a message cut into his skin.

Lambo, bled out from the bullet wounds underneath Sawada Nana’s cooling body. He lived just long enough to leave something for his Family.

Mammon, having disappeared for months only to be returned in pieces in a box at their doorstep.

The mansion, home, bombed right in front of their eyes along with the people inside.

And then it was Chrome—gentle Chrome with a gentle smile pushing him out of the way of something he was too exhausted to see until it was too late and he saw her murmur her last words only for him to hear just as _her chest ripped open in front of him, blood erupting from her body and staining his cheeks, mouth open and more blood dripping down her lips_. The face behind her grinned, lewd words on his tongue that had Mukuro seeing red.

(What happened next was a massacre.

It changed nothing)

Mukuro woke with a choked cry that didn’t sound. Years of practice kept him from screaming. It was still dark when he came back to himself. Ken and Chikusa didn’t stir. He looked around the room but all he saw was remnants of his nightmare. His _memories_. His clothes stuck to his skin uncomfortably. His heart pounded against his ribcage, threatening to burst out. He kept his breathing as quiet as he could, but they were practically roaring in his ears, ragged and rushed.

He shrouded himself in Mist Flames and ended up in Kyoya’s room.

He collapsed to his knees beside the bed, his Flames dissipating around him. He didn’t notice Kyoya was already awake until he was kneeling in front of him, waving a hand in front of his face. He looked up. Kyoya was not an expressive person, but the look on his face was understanding. Not concern, but comprehension.

“Why are you awake?” Mukuro asked hoarsely. His face felt sticky with—tears? When was the last time he ever cried?

“Your Flames were going wild, pineapple,” Kyoya said, fake boredom in his tone. He cradled his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on his knee. “Not actually, but internally. It woke me up.”

“This is stupid,” Mukuro muttered. “None of that will happen. Not to our Family.”

“The omnivore would disagree.”

That, Mukuro acquiesced, was accurate. Tsuna was big on mental health when Reborn finally thought to get him a therapist. He had been quick to try and help the Guardians deal with their issues—ironic, considering how often he would ignore his own. If he were here, he would probably say something like, “Just because it won’t happen now doesn’t mean it never happened to you. It still impacted you. You shouldn’t ignore it.”

“Right,” Mukuro said quietly. He looked to his lap, hands hanging limply at his sides. He could feel Kyoya’s eyes on him.

“…Up,” Kyoya commanded after two minutes of silence. Though his tone was firm, he made sure to project his movements as he gripped his upper arm. Mukuro let him pull him up until he was sitting on his bed beside him.

“Is there a reason for this, Skylark?” he asked.

“The floor isn’t comfortable. At least sit here.” In the dark, he couldn’t see if Kyoya was turning pink again, but he probably was. Mukuro couldn’t help the amused smile at the thought.

“Wow, Kyoya. When did you become such a softie,” he teased, and was promptly pushed off the bed. He caught himself on his hands, laughing quietly. Kyoya aimed a kick at his stomach. It was far from his full strength. He wrapped his arms around his stomach though he wasn’t in any pain.

“Stay down there and suffer, pineapple.”

Mukuro jerked his head up, aghast. “I’m not a pineapple! My hair isn’t even up!”

Kyoya smirked and leaned forward. “ _Pine-a-pple_.”

Mukuro constructed his trident and threw it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Explanation of Flames:** Every Flame user has people of other Flame types that they're compatible with, but it's only when they have a Sky that they can be considered Harmonized. However, those without Skies can still be found congregating among each other in groups of those they are compatible with and forming Bonds with one another. They don't need a Sky to be strong, but with a Sky and a full set of Elements is when Flame users are strongest.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Kyoya II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **IF YOU HAVE READ THIS FIC BEFORE MAY 18, 2019 PLEASE GO BACK AND READ THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS. THEY HAVE BEEN INCREDIBLY REWRITTEN AND THE NEXT CHAPTERS AFTERWARDS WILL REFLECT AS SUCH**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, now assuming you've caught up... *unholy screeches* holy _hell_ I hated those first two chapters. They did not work with what I wanted for chapter three at all, so I just scrapped them and started again. The most significant change I can think of for this fic at the moment (that weren't in the rewritten chapters):  
> 6918 is the _main ship_ of this fic, with 1827 having been in the _past._ Will it turn into 691827? Maybe, but not for a long time as Tsuna is a child now and Mukuro and Hibari are both mentally much older than he is. Romance isn't the main focus of this story and will only be relevant very rarely, but for those of you hoping for polyamory, it's up in the air at the moment.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and thank you for bearing with me!

Kyoya stared at the familiar-unfamiliar girl standing in his doorway. She smiled nervously at him. He stared a little while longer. Then he turned back into the house and walked away.

“U-um!” Chrome said.

“Are you coming or what?” Kyoya said, glancing over his shoulder at her sharply. Her eyes widened. She hurried after him, almost tripping over her feet. Kyoya walked purposefully toward his destination, though he kept his pace slower for her benefit. It wouldn’t do for her to get lost in unfamiliar territory.

He slammed open the door to the room Mukuro was being tutored in. Ken and Chikusa were learned Japanese, so they were in a separate room. Technically, Mukuro didn’t need tutoring—they had all graduated high school and Mukuro had been one of the few to go to college for a time—but apparently he found it funny to cause distress to the tutors. So long as he didn’t give them heart attacks, Kyoya didn’t call him out on it.

“Rokudo Mukuro,” Kyoya said dangerously, stomping his way towards a gleeful Mukuro. The tutor squeaked and hurriedly scrambled out of the way. Kyoya pointed a tonfa at him. “Explain this before I bite you to death.”

“Why, explain what, Skylark-kun?” Mukuro said innocently. Chrome was standing nervously in the doorway, clearly within his line of sight.

“ _Her_!” Kyoya jabbed his other hand in Chrome’s direction. “I don’t recall making any plans to bring _her_ in!”

“Aw, but can you say that you reject having her around? I’m saving her from an abusive family.”

Kyoya growled. He couldn’t deny that she wasn’t bad to have around, but he still would have liked the warning. While he doubted that her parents would raise too much of a fuss over her disappearance, on the off-chance that they did, he didn’t want to deal with the fallout. And they were _still_ trying to figure out what to do about Tsuna. (Kyoya wanted to grab him now. Mukuro thought they needed to be subtle)

He aimed a kick as Mukuro’s leg. He missed. “She will be permitted to stay, but I expect to be informed the next time you make a spontaneous choice to adopt another child,” he sniffed.

“I don’t plan to do that any time soon.” Mukuro rolled his eyes. “Three is enough.”

“Good. Herbivore, come with me.” Kyoya gestured for her to follow as he passed. She glanced at Mukuro for a moment before walking after him.

“Um, my name is Nagi. Fukao Nagi,” she said. Kyoya had known that, but he never cared for her birth name. It hadn’t been _her_ name.

“You are only an herbivore. For now,” he said. “The pineapple didn’t inform me of your presence, so I didn’t prepare. There should be an empty room, but we will have to go shopping at a later time. Mother and Father will have to be informed first.”

“Okay… You’re Hibari-san… right? Mukuro-san’s, um, Skylark-kun?”

Kyoya made a face. “I’m not ‘his’ anything, but yes, we are… something.” He wouldn’t call them friends, but they weren’t the enemies and rivals they had once been. Family, perhaps, but they had never exactly called one another ‘Family’ before.

“I see… I’m sorry to intrude, Hibari-san.”

“Kyoya,” he said abruptly. His ears turned hot. “My parents are also Hibari. Call me Kyoya.” It had been a long time since Family called him ‘Hibari’.

“Oh. Okay, Kyoya-san.” Chrome fell silent.

The last memory Kyoya had of Chrome was a confident—though quiet—young woman who could rein in her boys with little more than a word. When they started being hunted, she hadn’t let any nerves get to her. She stood tall as she and Mukuro left with their people to face the next opponent.

(Mukuro came back alone, blood-soaked and eyes blank. It was Kyoya who pushed everyone out of the room and dealt with his rage until it gave way to exhaustion.

They didn’t cry)

“Father,” Kyoya said, entering his father’s study. His mother was out for the day, terrorizing new recruits in Tokyo.

“Kyoya, good morning,” said his father. “Who’s this?” He raised an eyebrow at Chrome’s appearance behind his shoulder. Kyoya knew he saw the resemblance between her and Mukuro. They never were able to figure out why that was, and if there was an explanation, both of them found joy in keeping it a secret.

“Pineapple neglected to tell me that he found a young Mist in her dreams and convinced her to come here.” He crossed his arms, a scowl tugging at his lips. “She’ll be staying here, but we have no preparations for her.”

“…Did you just say Mukuro-kun kidnapped a girl?”

“ _No_. He saved her. Didn’t I say that?”

His father held his head in his hands. “No, Kyoya, you didn’t say that. Where did he save her from?”

“Abusive parents. She’s staying.”

“I, um, wouldn’t say they were _abusive_ …” Chrome stammered.

“They ignored her, didn’t give her any care, and the only time they gave her any attention was when they needed her to play perfect daughter.” He felt two pairs of eyes on him, but he only paid attention to his father’s slight widening of eyes.

“I-I see. I’ll have to look into her parents in that case, but she’s free to stay if you like her that much.”

Kyoya frowned. “I never said anything about like.”

His father laughed. “No, you didn’t.” He smiled, something bright in his eyes. “Mukuro is good for you, Kyoya.” Kyoya blinked. His parents were both confusing, but his father always managed to be the hardest one to read.

“He is an annoyance and a rotten pineapple,” he said fervently.

“So you’ve said.” His father waved his hand and looked at Chrome. “Ojou-san, what’s your name?”

“F-Fukao Nagi, Hibari-san. I’m sorry for intruding.” Chrome bowed deeply.

“It’s no trouble, but there will be restrictions until we figure out your accommodations. Kyoya, will you be helping her settle in?”

“Yes. Come along, Chrome.”

“It’s… Nagi?” Chrome said. Kyoya ignored her and began marching out of the room. She followed, fidgeting with her sleeves. “Um, are you sure this is okay?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. Mukuro brought you here, which means you’re staying. He’ll have likely finished terrorizing his tutor in a few minutes, so if you’re more comfortable with him, he’ll be around shortly.” Kyoya led her upstairs. He gestured to the doors in the hall. “My room is here. Mukuro and the other two stay in the room over there. You can stay in the room next to them.” He opened the door. It was largely empty, with a table and a futon, but not much else. He frowned. “I’ll call for someone to bring furnishing here. This is unacceptable.”

“I don’t mind,” Chrome said.

“I mind and the pineapple carnivore will mind.” Kyoya ushered for her to follow while he went to find his father’s right-hand man, Lyon.

Lyon was a tall brunet man who had followed his father from France. ‘Hibari’ came from his mother’s side, while his father had been raised in France before coming to Namimori to study abroad and meet his Family’s new allies. The man was overly indulgent of children and had a weird love-hate relationship with Kyoya’s mother, but he was a good, loyal man.

(Kyoya didn’t know how he died. He wasn’t sure if his parents ever managed to find the body)

“Lyon,” Kyoya said, finding the man in one of the dojos. “I need you to do something for me.” Lyon was overseeing a few trainees, but as Kyoya vaguely remembered, he was quick to drop all of them to approach him.

“What do you need, Kyoya-kun?” Lyon asked, smiling a tad patronizingly. Kyoya made a face but decided not to call him out on it. He would get him back at a later date.

“Pineapple carnivore brought home a stray without telling me, so she had nothing,” he said, gesturing to Chrome, who was hiding behind his shoulder. “I need you to order furniture for her bedroom immediately. We will go shopping tomorrow.”

“Of course. I’ll do that immediately.” Lyon took out his phone. The trainees looked on the verge of passing out, as they hadn’t been told to stop their exercises. Kyoya contemplated reminding Lyon of them.

He turned, bringing Chrome along with him. He only had to walk a few steps before Mukuro materialized from nowhere, a cheeky smirk on his face. Kyoya frowned at him.

“No, I did not traumatize your tutor,” Mukuro said. “In fact, I was very kind. He’s only mildly unsettled.”

“I’ll send someone after him,” Kyoya said. “Explain yourself.”

“Hush, now. Chrome, dear, it’s so nice to see you in person.” Mukuro smiled at Chrome, in part kind and in part sly. He was physically incapable of looking genuine.

“Mukuro-kun,” Chrome said, bowing her head. Her face was a little flushed. “It’s nice to meet you finally.”

“When did you start talking to her?” Kyoya asked, not bothering to stop and wait for the two of them to have their conversation. Mukuro had lectured him enough times about keeping the future a secret that he was now conscious of when they were in the halls. He headed upstairs, confident that they were following him.

“Immediately after I came here,” Mukuro answered. “It’s easy to find people in their dreams when you’re in the same timezone. I only just managed to convince her to come with us.”

He had only been here for a few weeks. He worked fast, though Kyoya was hardly surprised.

“I see.” This was the best possible choice, he supposed. He hadn’t been thinking about the other Guardians. Summer vacation had just ended, which meant school started the day before, and Kyoya was trying to figure out how to approach Tsuna. Mukuro wouldn’t be any help—partly because he wasn’t set to enroll for another week, and partly because he would surely scare Tsuna before they could get anywhere with him. It didn’t leave him much room to figure out what he wanted to do with the other Guardians—or even if he should approach them so early. Kyoya usually left that kind of planning to Mukuro.

They went to his room, shutting the door behind them. Mukuro perched on his bed, having found residence there early on no matter how many times Kyoya shoved him off. Kyoya sat at his desk, still full of papers and half-laid diagrams that he wasn’t sure what he was doing with. Chrome stood awkwardly until Mukuro gestured for her to sit by him and Kyoya nodded his assent.

“What did you and the pineapple talk about?” Kyoya asked.

“For the _last time, Kyoya_ —” Mukuro huffed and didn’t bother to finish the sentence. Twelve years of knowing each other and it still never got old.

“He… asked about my family a lot,” Chrome answered, glancing uneasily between them. “Asked if I was happy. He also told me a little bit about, um, Mist Flames? The thing that was allowing us to talk like that, but I didn’t really get it. He, uh, offered to help me, so I came here. He didn’t tell me he was living in a place like this, though. Or who you were. He just, um, told me the address.” Kyoya frowned at her fidgeting. She would grow out of it eventually—possibly soon. Children were adaptable, weren’t they?

“I don’t have any issues with you staying here,” Kyoya reiterated. “Father doesn’t either and Mother will be happy to have a daughter.”

“D-daughter?” Chrome squeaked.

“Well, you do need a legal guardian,” Mukuro reminded her.

“But I have parents?” Chrome said.

“They’re bad parents,” Kyoya said. “Mother will treat you well. I take it the pineapple didn’t tell you what you would be walking into, though?”

“Um, no… He didn’t tell me anything at all.”

Kyoya looked at Mukuro, hoping to convey _how the fuck did she even get here?_ Mukuro pointedly looked away.

“Chrome,” Kyoya said, “what you have to know is that you are now in a house of criminals.”

Chrome’s eyes widened. She leaned back, uncertainty and fear flickering across her face. Mukuro was quick to add, “No, don’t worry, we’re not planning on doing anything to you. Kyoya should have worded that better.”

“How else was I supposed to word it?” Kyoya threw him a glare.

Mukuro rolled his eyes. “Chrome, when Kyoya says we’re a house of criminals, he meant _organized_ crime.” Chrome didn’t say anything, but she did look more confused than scared. “Right, you don’t know what that means. Organized crime is crime that has its own rules and values, outside of the law but with its own type of… order to it. It’s not all mindless killing and thievery.”

“So I’m not in any, um, danger?” Chrome said.

“Of course not,” Kyoya scoffed. “You’re adopted now. You’re not in any danger from us.”

Chrome eyed them for a few, long moments. Kyoya tapped a finger impatiently until she said, “Okay.” She didn’t relax, but she did stop inching away from them. She didn’t completely believe them. That was fine—she would learn.

* * *

Kyoya didn’t expect his mother to come home from Tokyo four days early, but she was there the next morning, staring at him and Mukuro with incredibly judging eyes. Ken and Chikusa were poking at Chrome—Ken doing a lot of interrogation too—which Kyoya would have put a stop to if he weren’t having a staring contest with his mother.

“Mukuro, what were you thinking?” his mother said evenly in a way that betrayed exactly how pissed she was. Kyoya was twenty-eight years old and a carnivore above most of the world, but he did his best to not make any sudden movements under her glare.

“I was thinking that there was a powerful Mist who wasn’t getting the home she deserved,” Mukuro answered, grinning not quite as widely as he usually would.

“And you didn’t think to _tell_ anyone?”

“I hardly know you, Asuka. I wasn’t going to tell your Family anything.” Mukuro rolled his eyes, as though he would have told anyone even if he had known them. Kyoya had to keep from looking at him in disbelief.

“Not even Kyoya? You and he are close.”

“That wouldn’t be fun.” Mukuro pouted. Kyoya bared his teeth wordlessly at him and got a wink in response.

Kyoya’s mother buried her face in her hands and said slowly for their benefit, “Ken-kun, Chikusa-kun, would you please leave? I need to have a talk with Kyoya and Mukuro-kun and Chrome-chan.”

It took a moment for them to translate, but when they did, Ken attempted to voice his protests in clumsy Japanese. Chikusa put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “We will leave,” he said. “Sorry.” He bowed a bit too low, forcing Ken to bow with him by tugging on the collar of his shirt, then dragged him out of the room.

Kyoya watched his mother breathe in deeply a few times before looking up at them. Chrome looked more scared than she should have been—none of his mother’s ire would ever be turned towards her. As expected, she wiped her face of any of her irritation to smile at her. “Chrome-chan, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Hibari Asuka; I’m Kyoya’s mother. I’m sorry for all the trouble that Mukuro-kun has caused by not warning us of your arrival.”

“I-it’s my fault,” Chrome said quickly, waving her hands. “I’m the one intruding on your home, after all… Oh, but, my name is Nagi…”

“Is it? Kyoya and Mukuro-kun call you ‘Chrome.’”

“It fits her better than ‘Nagi.’” Mukuro wrinkled his nose and Kyoya nodded his agreement. Chrome stared at them in confusion. Amusement flickered across Kyoya’s mother’s face.

“Of course. What would you prefer, then?” she asked.

“Uh… e-either is fine, I guess.”

“Chrome-chan it is. Now, did Mukuro-kun explain to you what this family is?”

“Ah, criminals…?”

She nodded. “Indeed. We’re called the Hibari Clan, a group of criminals who controls a large part of the Asian crime. I oversee all of it, but I won’t force you to be involved. Kyoya and Mukuro-kun already are, but if you wish to be left out of it, we won’t involve you any more than necessary. You don’t have to make a decision now—simply tell us whenever you’ve made one. There’s no rush.” Chrome nodded, looking relieved. “Next question: did Mukuro-kun tell you about Flames?”

Chrome shook her head. “No, he, um, told me that I had Mist Flames but, uh, nothing else.”

“Of course.” Kyoya’s mother sighed. “Flames are a secret of the criminal world. There are seven Flames in total—Storm, Lightning, Rain, Cloud, Sun, Sky, and your Flames are Mist. Mukuro-kun’s too. Kyoya and I are Clouds. Everyone has the potential to Activate their Flames, but it is only those of us involved in crime who have managed it. Though, somehow, it seems you’ve Activated yours as well. I can feel them. They’re strong for your age. Impressive.” She smiled. Chrome looked stunned by the praise. Kyoya felt a sudden urge to find her birth parents and _bite them_. “Now, each Flame has a certain attribute to them. Your Flames’ attribute is ‘construction’ meaning that your Flames are good for creating illusions. It’s not great offensively, but powerful nonetheless, so we will have to teach you to control them.”

“I’ll do it,” Mukuro said almost eagerly. “I know Mist Flames well and I brought her here. I can teach.”

“Yes, you do know how to use your Flames,” Kyoya’s mother said, “but you’re still a child. You have your own lessons.” Mukuro scowled. Kyoya elbowed him before he could start retorting.

“Mother,” Kyoya said, “The pineapple has been playing with his tutors this whole time. He doesn’t need the lessons and he’s right that he knows Mist Flames. I think our newest herbivore would prefer learning from him than from anyone else.” Though he would never say it out loud, he knew that Mukuro was a good teacher when it came down to it. He had apprenticed Fran and taught Chrome everything he knew while he was imprisoned. There was no one else in the world who could teach Mist Flames as well as he could.

His mother looked at him. The weird pride that had been on his father’s face crossed hers as well. “Kyoya, your confidence in your friend—” Kyoya recoiled at the word, “is admirable, but we have plenty of Mist users who can teach well in our Family.”

“None of them will be as good as me,” Mukuro huffed, crossing his arms. “I took care of my whole Family with nothing but my Mist Flames! I can teach!” Kyoya held back a snort. _Take care of_. A nice way of saying ‘slaughtered’, and the first time he had done it, he hadn’t been as powerful as he was now. There truly was no one else but him.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Chrome said. Mukuro pointed at her as though to say _see?_ “I… would like it if he were to teach me.” She bowed her head, her shoulders shaking almost imperceptibly. Kyoya shifted to lean closer to her and saw Mukuro doing the same.

His mother stared at them silently, questioningly. She was confused, but also fascinated, and Kyoya couldn’t identify the whirl of emotions in her eyes. “I see,” she said. “If you’re so adamant about it, I’ll allow Mukuro to tutor you, but for the first few lessons, I’ll be assigning someone to watch you and make sure everything is going smoothly. If it doesn’t work out, Chrome-chan will be given a new teacher.”

“Acceptable.” Mukuro grinned widely. There would be no ‘new teacher.’

“You two are dismissed, then. I wish to speak with Kyoya for a moment. Mukuro-kun, why don’t you introduce her formally to Ken-kun and Chikusa-kun?”

Mukuro nodded. He stood, tugging Chrome along with him out the room. The door closed and Kyoya looked at his mother. She still had that weird look on her face.

“Mother?” he said.

“Kyoya, you really like having Mukuro-kun around, don’t you?”

Kyoya scowled. “He’s an annoyance and a—” _Don’t swear_ , “jerk. The only reason I’ve allowed him shelter is because there’s nowhere else he could go and we’re compatible. I would be a sorry Flame User if I rejected my own Mist.” He had already lost his fellow Elements and Sky, and maybe they were back now, but they didn’t have the same Bond anymore. They didn’t even know him. All he had grounding him now was Mukuro, their still-connected Harmonization, until the day they had all of their Family back.

“You never used to care so much,” his mother said. “You rejected the need to build your Flames. You didn’t want them if they meant you needed other people to grow.”

Kyoya remembered that. A little bit. His mother, ten years in the future, had told Tsuna about how he hated his Flames because he thought he didn’t need anyone else. He used to maim every tutor that tried to teach him until the point that his parents stopped trying. He was an arrogant child. “I learned,” he said, scowling. “I am… stronger. Now that I am connected to him.”

She let out a huff of laughter. “Yes, I noticed. I’m very proud of you, Kyoya. Your father and I are so, so proud.”

Kyoya furrowed his eyebrows. The praise wasn’t unwelcome, but he wasn’t sure what he did to deserve it. His mother wasn’t the type to hand out praise lightly. “Why did you want to speak with me, Mother?” he asked.

“Right, right. We’ve decided that Chrome-chan will be going to school at the same time the other three will be, so look out for her. As she’s two years younger than you and a year younger than Mukuro-kun, I’m a little worried about how she’ll fair. Lyon looked into her situation with her parents, too.” She frowned. “Reports from her teachers called her quiet and jumpy, and a few parent-teacher meetings showed an almost disregard that her parents held for her. Like they didn’t care, and they had apparently caused more than a few scenes yelling at her when she didn’t get a perfect grade. No bruises, thankfully, but still abuse. She’s been here for a day and it doesn’t look like they have even noticed her absence. I’m glad Mukuro-kun brought her here, though I wish he had done so in a different manner.”

“He never does anything without making an affair out of it.”

“So I’ve noticed,” she said dryly. “There was one other thing I wanted to talk to you about—that boy you said was Sealed. His name was Sawada, correct?”

“Yes.”

“He goes to your school. Same age as Chrome-chan. Did you know that?”

Of course he knew that. Namimori was small, and even if it wasn’t, Kyoya would have searched everywhere to find him. He had been keeping tabs on him, never approaching only because his mother had told him not to before she could figure out what to do. But his impatience festered in him, wanting to crawl out of his chest and drag him to his Sky, who he couldn’t even feel like he could feel Takeshi and Ryohei because he was _Sealed_.

“I knew,” he responded, not letting his thoughts show on his face.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to bring him here to work on the Seal,” his mother explained. “Because of Mukuro-kun and getting all of their affairs in order, I’ve been rather busy, but I think Chrome-chan could help. If I put them in the same class and ask that Sawada-kun show her around…”

Kyoya nodded too fast to be natural. “Yes. Yes, I think that would work. That… Sawada herbivore—he’s timid. But friendly. Chrome shouldn’t have issues with befriending him.”

“That’s good. I don’t want to leave an Active Sky Sealed in my territory. I regret that it’s taken so long to figure out what to do about him.” His mother narrowed her eyes at her hands, thinking. Kyoya cleared his throat. She looked up, not looking the least bit startled. She never did. “Oh, right. That was all I wanted to talk to you about. You may go now, Kyoya. And, again… I’m so _proud_ of you.”

Kyoya didn’t respond. The declaration was beginning to get uncomfortable. He hurried out of the room before he could look too long at the look on his mother’s face.

Mukuro and his ilk weren’t nearby anymore, but he didn’t have to search hard for them. A maid directed him towards the gardens, which he should have expected. It was the only place that wouldn’t overwhelm Chrome or make the other three feel trapped.

He found Mukuro sitting on a bench and watching Ken turn red as he tried to explain the flowers to Chrome while Chikusa muffled his laughter beside him. (Who knew Ken liked nature that much?) Chrome looked like she was getting used to them, not trying to curl in on herself and instead nodding to Ken’s half-broken explanations.

“Mother decided she’ll have Chrome put into the omnivore’s class,” Kyoya announced as he took his place beside Mukuro.

“Oh?” Mukuro looked up at him, a bit of a smirk on his face. “We’re doing something about our Sky, then?”

“If you and Mother weren’t of the same opinion that we should wait, then this would have been done sooner.” He scowled down at him.

“Patience. I know you’ve learned how to wait and think before acting,” Mukuro said.

“This is our _Sky_.”

“Indeed. And now we almost have him. Just a little while longer. Now, will you sit?” He patted the seat next to him. Kyoya stared for a few moments, contemplating going back inside and taking a nap instead of crowding.

He glanced at Chrome again and sat down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hibari and Mukuro love their Family and that's all I will say in regards to this chapter.
> 
> If you have any questions about changes to this fic that I can't think of, please feel free to ask! I'm uploading all of these at once, so I can't for the life of me remember what other things I might have changed that aren't reflected in the first two chapters.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, if you like my fics, I now have a [writing blog on tumblr](https://heavenly-dusk.tumblr.com/)! (It also links to my main blog if you prefer shitposts and miscellaneous fandom stuff)


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